A Wilted Rose
by jackjack2
Summary: Sometimes doing what you think is right makes you the bad guy. And being the bad guy means you are an outcast. It is a cross that must be borne alone. And each has his own way of bearing it. -December MonCon


" _Even those who dwell in darkness_

 _Yearn to behold the beauty of dawn"_

 _-Anonymous_

* * *

' _For the last time Adam, I'm never getting back together with a psychopathic murderer who kills people and hurts my friends! And stop texting me already!"_

Adam looked down once more at the line of text on his scroll and sighed. Accompanying the rather harsh message was an exorbitant number of exclamation points as well as a series of frowny-face emoji. Scrolling back up through their past conversations Adam found that a majority of her statements ended that way. He frowned. Blake seemed to be trying to use up the entire world's supply of exclamation points just to prove her disregard for him. Somehow the thought didn't make him miss her any less.

For a brief moment he considered texting back one more time. This time he would _prove_ how much he loved her. This time he would convince her that what he was doing was for the good of every Faunus in Remnant. His fingers hovered over the digital keypad. He couldn't think of anything to say. Then the light by her profile picture faded out. She had left the conversation.

Adam sighed once more. He was hurt, deep down inside where no-one but Blake had seen before. He exited the messenger app and returned to his home screen. He smiled affectionately at the background picture of the two holding hands beside the beach in Menagerie. He reached out as if to touch her face, then drew back. Those days were gone. It had been a choice between love and duty. He did not regret his actions. But that didn't do much to dull the heartache.

He slipped his scroll into his pocket and stood, stretching his arms as he gazed into the roaring fire. Beyond the frost-covered windows the wind and snow blew fiercely, but within his hideaway in Vale he was warm and comfortable. At least on the outside.

Most people probably thought that the life of a so-called ' _villain'_ was quite simple: you spend all your free time plotting how to do something evil, do it, laugh maniacally, get defeated at the last second, then swear to return someday to take revenge. And admittedly, Adam couldn't find anything in that statement that was _false,_ but there was a lot that it left out. No-one ever thought about how the bad guy felt. No-one cared about him. All they wanted to do was stop him and foil his plans and basically just ruin his entire life's work. Why couldn't they leave him alone? It wasn't like he went out of his way to go find every Huntsman or Huntress-in-training and needlessly attack them! (Well, except Blake, but that was _her_ fault for breaking up with him.)

Why couldn't they just let him fulfill his plan of beginning a revolution to deliver justice to those who had oppressed Faunus-kind for so long? True, this plan involved the murder of anyone who got in their way, but sometimes you've just got to kill people to get stuff done! Who was Blake to stand between him and his goals?

At the thought of what he had lost Adam smashed his fist down onto the coffee table, splitting it in two. He looked down at the splintered wood with a slight twinge of guilt. ' _I need to get out of here for a few hours,'_ he thought. ' _Clear my head a bit.'_

He pulled his scroll from his pocket once more. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and there was only one place to do it. For a moment he paused. ' _What if he's still mad about last time?'_ Then he dismissed the thought. No-one stayed mad for that long. It had been an entire….what was today, Monday?

He tapped on a name and brought the screen up to his ear. After a few seconds the line connected.

"Hey Junior, how's it been…..okay, if this is about last time I….look, I said I was sor….yeah well at least he didn't _die,_ right?...Oh. Well. My condolences then…..hey, at least it wasn't a _real_ panda, right? Aren't pandas endangered or something?...Oh it wasn't actually a panda suit? Just a normal bear?...Look, Junior, I just need some distraction. Is it alright if I come over for a few hours? I promise not to kill too many of….None?...Okay, okay fine. Thanks. I'll be over in a few."

With renewed vigour Adam darted into the kitchen, grabbed a bag, then hurried out the door. The wind and snow blew furiously in his face, but Junior's club was only a few blocks away. In a matter of minutes he was standing outside the icicle-laden building. No obnoxious music or flashing lights exuded from within. Obviously it was a night off for the bar and its patrons. Shivering somewhat, he threw open the doors and entered.

The main room was empty with the exception of a few lounging thugs swapping stories and smoking. As soon as they saw him they bolted into a back room yelling, "Boss! He's back! Hide the bear costume!"

Adam harrumphed. The bear mascot had asked for it.

In a moment or two Junior appeared, wearing a fluffy red and white Santa outfit and flanked by his two bodyguards, Melanie and Militia. Adam was amazed he remembered their names, but he could not remember which was which. They were both dressed in matching green and red holiday outfits and pointed hats, obviously designed to look like Santa's elves. They were less than amused.

"What can I do for you Adam?" Junior asked somewhat warily. He didn't want _this_ time to end like _last_ time. Adam rolled his eyes. You slash _one_ guy and everyone _freaks out_ …..

"I was kinda bored and thought I'd come down here to use your kitchen. You've got everything I need to make my favorite pie so I…." Before the words had even left his mouth, Adam realized how foolish they sounded. Bad guys mentioning their love of baking was a serious faux pas in his line of work. He bit back a curse and awaited the mandatory gibes.

Junior's eyes bugged out and he doubled over, trying with absolutely no success to stem the tide of the laughter which exploded from within. The thought of the horned man who murdered anyone and everyone without hesitation _baking a pie_ was just too much. The twins merely eyed Adam slightly more disdainfully (if that was even possible).

Choking down his guffaws, Junior pointed towards an open door and managed, "Yeah, sure. It's right through there. Girls, why don't you show Mr Taurus to the kitchen and help him with anything he needs."

Adam glared at the other man for several seconds, purposefully prolonging the awkward silence until the amusement in the heavy man's eyes had diminished somewhat. He rested his hand upon the hilt of his katana menacingly, then stomped off towards the kitchen. The two girls shared a knowing glance, then followed. From behind Adam could hear Junior still chuckling under his breath. His frown deepened. He would make the man pay for that.

Upon entering the massive industrial-sized kitchen, Adam felt his temper returning to normal (which for him was somewhere right below _majorly pissed off)_. He set his bag of ingredients on the counter and took a deep breath. The warm smells of baked goods filled his nostrils. His sorrow, worries, and insecurities began to melt away like the snow in the springtime. His mind flashed back to when his mother would bake in the kitchen back home in Menagerie, while his father would sit at the table laughing and joking (and charging horns first at the sheets drying on the clothesline whenever a strong gust blew them about).

Instinctively Adam began to pull out the necessary ingredients for his pie crust. He poured the flour, sugar, and salt into a large bowl, sliced the butter and added that, mixed it all together, added the water and shortening, and so on. As he worked he found himself talking about anything and everything that came to mind, from his favorite swordsmiths to his love for green tea to his secret of waxing his horns to make them shine. The twins at least _appeared_ to be listening, but it was hard to tell for sure. He didn't mind. It was a rare opportunity for him to really unwind without caring what anyone thought.

After several minutes Junior himself walked in. Adam had been in the middle of telling the girls a joke. They had refused to laugh. He hoped he would have better luck with the club's owner.

"So I see that blondie's new prosthetic limb and I go, 'Hey that's really cool. What'd it cost you, an arm and a….oh right. Just an arm.'"

Junior actually seemed rather saddened by the reminder of the blond girl's loss, so Adam just gave up on the joke completely. He turned back to his pie. It was time to make the filling.

"Exactly what kind of pie are you gonna make?" Junior asked. Adam grinned.

"It's an old secret recipe my mo...that I..uh...learned from my ancestors. It's call _Forever Fall Pie_ , because it's made with the sweet sap from the trees that grow in that forest. I figured it was appropriate, given the weather outside." He realized that Junior didn't care, so he shook his head and pointed to his bag. "Grab me the jar of sap in there."

Junior seized the jar and tried to open it. It would not budge. He strained with all his might. Nothing. Adam looked over and pulled it from the heavier man's hands. He too twisted with all the strength he could muster. It remained obstinately shut. Muttering several unkind phrases, he set the container on the counter, then pulled out his katana. Immediately everyone else backed up. Adam rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to kill you. At least probably not. But these jars can be really tough to open. I can do it, but I need you to punch my sword."

Junior furrowed his eyebrows, confused. The twins looked at each other and shrugged in unison. Adam, remembering his earlier promise, fought the urge to impale them all. "Just do it."

Unwilling to expose himself to potential maiming, Junior gestured for the girls to do it. Shaking their heads the girls approached together, leapt into the air, and crashed down onto the outstretched blade, one with her heel, the other with a metal claw. A resounding **CLANG** filled the large room with a metallic pulsating. The twins stumbled back as they felt the force of their blows immediately absorbed by the gleaming metal.

Adam's hair and clothing glowed red, leaching the color from the room until all was black and red. He could feel the power coursing through his katana as his semblance took effect. Grinning, he slashed through the air, leaving a trail of wilted rose petals floating through the kitchen. When the color returned and the last of the petals had fallen, there sat before him the jar, now lidless. The sweet aroma of the sap managed to counter the sickly miasma left by the dead petals. Adam sheathed his sword and got to work.

"You know," Junior observed, his heart still pounding quickly. "You could have just run it under hot water or something."

* * *

Alone in the kitchen, Adam sat before the oven, watching his nearly-finished pie complete the final stages of its preparation. His scroll was in his hand, and he was once more staring with a sad smile at the picture of himself and Blake.

The hardest part about being the bad guy wasn't the moral questioning. It wasn't the constant defeat. It wasn't even the shame of being beaten by little girls. The hardest part of being the bad guy was always being alone.

As if with a mind of their own his fingers scrawled out a quick message and sent it to Blake before he could stop them. ' _Blake,'_ it said simply. ' _I'm sorry. I understand that you can't trust me ever again. But can I at least come over to explain, just for a minute? I'll bring pie?'_

Adam's stomach twisted into a knot as he awaited her answer. One half of him couldn't believe he'd been so foolish, especially with the desperate offer to bring a pie. The other half was hoping against hope that she'd say yes. He wasn't sure he could take it if she rejected him again. The small light beside her name blinked to life. She was reading his message.

Three dots appeared beside his message. She was replying. It felt like an eternity. The oven beeped, but his eyes were glued to his way or another he would get his answer.

The message appeared. Adam's heart rose to his throat as he read her words.

'... _what kind of pie?'_


End file.
